


sea of love

by cabinbythesea



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Harry, Character Development, Cuddling & Snuggling, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, Dry Humping, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Grinding, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Honeymoon, Just Married, Light Angst, Love Bites, M/M, Marriage, Meet-Cute, Mile High Club, Riding, Teasing, Top Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 21:20:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6094339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabinbythesea/pseuds/cabinbythesea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is Harry's mailman and they've never met, but when Harry's mailbox breaks and he tapes a note to it because he's "sorry for the inconvenience!! :(" Louis knows he can't just ignore this kid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sea of love

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: the usual
> 
> don't know how i even came up with this smh
> 
> also, i am queen of irrelevant titles so!!
> 
> hope you enjoy at least a little bit :')

 

 

### Work Text:

 

 

The only reason Harry has the pleasure of living in a suburban neighborhood this nice is because he's house/cat-sitting for his sister.

Gemma and Max are going on some type of  _romantic getaway,_ as she called it. Harry thinks she mentioned something about Bora Bora, but he was honestly too excited with the idea of getting to get out of the shit apartment that he shares with Niall for an entire  _two weeks._ Plus, he gets to play with Genevieve during his time here. Harry loves cats and this whole deal he has with Gemma seems more of a vacation for him more than anything.

Things seem to be going smoothly the first day he arrives. He's got his legs thrown up on the coffee table, a pussy on his lap (which he is  _definitely_ not used to), and  _G_ _rease_ playing on the television. He's singing along to the opening scene when things start to damper.

He realizes that he didn't bring any lube with him.

This is absolutely  _tragic._

Harry is no saint, and sure, he promisingly will not finger himself in his sister and brother-in-law's bed, but there is no universe where Harry Styles, a fresh twenty-two year old gay man, could go two weeks without getting something up his ass.

To say the least, Harry begrudgingly carries himself to the nearest Tesco, in all his tight pants and printed shirt glory. By the time he gets back from the store, he can't help but notice something looks off with the mailbox, of all things.

He moves closer to investigate and finds that it appears to have gotten into a bit of an accident. The door to open and close the box has came off, laying in the grass next to Harry's feet. It is also tilted slightly to the side, someone must have ran into it, possibly a new driver, too scared and not knowing what to do, just opting to drive away.

Harry sighs and goes back inside. He figures he should write a note to the mailman and apologize for the mishap, because there is no way Harry knows how to fix this thing himself.

He finds the note polite, yet open-ended, the man/women always having the option of just throwing the mail on the yarn, even though that wouldn't be so nice. (Harry has always seeked for the best in people).

He tapes it to the mailbox, going back inside to resume his musical watching. He sends a quick text to Gemma about the little mishap, her replying with,  _Do not text me again unless the house has literally burnt to ashes... This is a GETAWAY!_

 

Louis thinks his job is boring as fuck.

Pros: he walks a lot and gets a lot of exercise.

Cons: he walks a lot and gets a lot of exercise.

All in all, Louis doesn't enjoy exercise, or any type of physical activity, really. How he landed this job is beyond him. Granted, Zayn does work back at the office, him helping Louis get back on his feet after uni with this job, so Louis has no right to complain, really. He's grateful for the decent pay, at least.

Louis dropped out of uni last year, it just not being his thing. Well, more like the thought of attending high school all over again, but harder, was just not his forte. 

So, here he is, delivering mail in a posh suburban neighborhood. He imagines if it were the summer months, people would be splashing around in their pools. Instead, the street is quiet, the rich folk most likely out on some ski trip to the mountains.

Louis can't help but rolls his eyes, the  _poshness_ of this part of town always makes him bitter.

And, of course, just Louis' luck, there's a mailbox that looks very disformed, looking like it was beaten up, or most likely, ran over by a reckless driver. He approaches it, seeing a piece of paper stuck to the side. It reads,  ** _Sorry for the inconvenience!! :( Bring it to the door if it's not too much trouble, please :)_**

Louis laughs a little at the note. Who would leave a note? Most people would just say fuck it and assume Louis would just bring it to the door. But no, this person seemed to have deemed it appropriate to leave a nice note, asking.

Louis is quite refreshed as he carries the few envelopes to the door of the nice home, wanting to compliment the person on leaving a nice note like that.

He rings the bell, automatically hearing a loud meow and running footsteps, which is an expected reaction when a loud ring runs throughout your home.

What isn't expected is the person behind the door, it never is, unless Louis happens to have seen the person outside around the neighborhood while on his rounds of the day, but this guy Louis has definitely never seen before. He sure would have remembered.

He's cute as hell. He appears to be flustered, probably from running to answer the door so quickly. His hair is a wild mess of long waves and his eyes are very green. His legs are so  _long_ in his tight jeans and his shirt is ridiculous, really, pink flamingos printed on it, which doesn't really make sense since it's February. His socks have cats on them, which is just all kinds of endearing.

Louis means to say something along the lines of mail, but what comes out instead is, "It's February and you're wearing a shirt that has flamingos on it. Doesn't that give off more of a beachy vibe for the summer months?"

Louis internally scolds himself because he needs to get back to his job, not question hot boys about their fashion choices, because this boy/man sure as hell looks good in what he's wearing anyway, so who is Louis to question it?

"Uh," the man stutters, eyes dropping down to the stack of mail in Louis' hands.

"Oh, right," Louis rolls his eyes at himself, handing him the mail. "Here you are, mate."

"Thanks," he replies and the voice is deeper than he expected, but oh so welcoming. "And are you one to talk while wearing this getup?"

Louis raises his brow because  _oh_. "I'll have you know that this is the attire of a hardworking man."

The boy grins and Louis can't help but notice how unfairly perfect his teeth are. "Sorry for the mailbox, by the way. I don't really know what happened."

"No problem. Has happened before, believe it or not."

"Really?" The man chuckles, unbelieving.

"Oh, yeah. Reckless teenage drivers knock over mailboxes on the regular."

The boy keeps laughing, which Louis doesn't really understand, but it makes him smile nonetheless.

"Can't say I ever did when I was that age."

Hmm, good. Louis now knows that this boy is probably legal. Not that Louis was  _that_ suspicious, but the guy does have quite the baby face.

"Me neither. Class A driver, me. But I guess I have to be when I'm driving around the mail truck all the time," Louis chuckles.

"Suppose so." He pauses again, before looking to the note in Louis' hand. "Found the note, then."

"Yeah, sure did. Was pretty impressed with it, honestly. People wouldn't typically _ask_ for me to bring the mail to their doorstep, but just _expect_ me to."

"Oh," the boy blushes, glancing down to his sock clad feet.

"Hey. I thought it was kinda sweet, though. A nice change," Louis tries to reassure.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

And, wow, that was a little intense. Louis is having a full on conversation with someone who isn't old Ms. Hiberway down the street, her always trying to flirt with Louis. This is different; a boy who is looking to be around Louis' age, pretty as can be who leaves the nicest notes to his  _mailman._

Louis is probably exaggerating, seeing as he doesn't even know the guy, but it is quite strange how much he  _wants_ to.

"Well, on that note," Louis jokes, trying to make a pun, "I best be off. Lots of mail to deliver, lots of bills to hand out and give people stress over."

He laughs again and Louis likes it more than he should.

"Okay. Have fun giving people grey hairs."

"Always do!" Louis backs down the stairs. "See you tomorrow, then. . . ."

"Harry."

Louis grins. "See you tomorrow, Harry."

 

"Oh, my god.  _Niall._ "

"Did you seriously call me this early just to say that?"

Harry glances at the clock. "It's eleven."

" _Exactly._ " Harry rolls his eyes, flopping himself down on the couch. "But how is staying at your sister's so far? Luxurious?"

"If by that you mean being rid of your smelly self and all your one night stands, then yes."

"Hey, now. I shower regularly and never have girls over when you're home," Niall claims, confident.

"Right. So I didn't just hear the toilet flush?"

"Oi, fuck off, mate. Like I said, you aren't home."

Harry chuckles. Niall is quite the player, but not to the extent that he's rude with it. Harry, the nice lad he is, makes sure that the girls he finds nice get fed breakfast in the morning, no thanks to Niall.

"Niall, okay, back to serious," Harry begins. "Are you listening? I have to make sure you're paying attention."

"Yes, princess, let's hear it." Harry can basically hear Niall rolling his eyes.

"Gemma's mailman is like, really beautiful?"

"Are you asking  _me_  if he's beautiful?"

Harry hates Niall. "No, believe me, I know he's beautiful. He's got really blue eyes and light brown hair and  _really_ nice arms."

Niall hums. "And how did you come in contact with this prince-like mailman?"

Harry blushes at the memory. "Well, uh, Gemma's mailbox kind of broke? Almost like someone ran into it and knocked it over, you know? The door to it was knocked off and I don't know how to fix a fucking mailbox, so I just taped a note to it to apologize for making him have to bring it all the way up to the door. And, I was kind of embarrassed, yeah? But, here's the best part; he said he thought the note was  _sweet,"_ Harry finishes. He's still got the guy's pretty smirk painted on the inside of his eyelids.

Niall's laughing at this point, probably finding Harry a lunatic. "Mate, did you even get the guy's name?"

Harry frowns, because  _no, he didn't._ Harry told him his, but he never caught his name as he was backing down the stairs. (Come to think of it, how did he manage to back down those stairs without even stumbling a little? Fucking Superman or some shit.)

"No. He knows mine, though."

"You don't even know his name yet, babe. Don't get too excited too fast. And stop pouting I can feel it through the phone."

"Oh, Niall! Kiss me through the phone!" Harry moans dramatically, earning a laugh from Niall.

"Alright, Haz. Well, that means you'll see him until you get the mailbox fixed, right? Just don't fix the box so you can keep talking to him," he offers up, simple.

Niall is quite smart when he wants to be. It's not a terrible idea, but he doesn't want to be  _too_ obvious.

"He's just really pretty and I wanna suck his dick a bit, you know?" Harry sighs in wonder.

"Can't say I do know, but I will take your word for it. Good luck and keep me updated! Also, don't worry too much, literally all of my gay mates think you're hot as hell, H, I wouldn't sweat it. They always look like they're about to come in their pants whenever you're around."

Harry snorts. "Thanks for the confidence boost, Niall. Talk to you later. Love you."

"Love you, bro."

 

"Fuck," Harry groans, collapsing down onto the yoga mat. Yoga is typically seen as a mockery, specifically when it has to do with the male gender. Harry finds this quite derogatory, him being an avid supporter of equality of all kinds. Yoga is hard fucking work, especially if the way Harry is sweating is anything to go by.

The doorbell decides to ring then, and Harry swears the universe is in his favor. Sure, he might look sweaty and gross, but he's got his good leggings on. Hopefully, hot mailman guy will take notice.

When he opens the door, he's stood there, with a warm smile on his face, before his eyes drop lower, that is. His mouth drops open and Harry can't help but grin.

"You're wearing leggings. Honest to god leggings," is what the guy says, and he looks embarrassed afterwards, almost like he didn't mean to say it out loud.

"Yeah," Harry shrugs, snapping at the material by his hip, "they're quite comfy, especially when doing yoga."

"Yoga?" the man croaks and yes, this is going fantastically.

"Mhm!" Harry smiles, friendly. "It's good for the thighs." Harry doesn't actually think yoga has much to do with his thighs, but more so physicality and mentality all together, but he says it anyway, just to see the way Louis may or may not lick his lips afterwards.

"Very good," he nods, once again, looking like he hates himself after. "But, uh, here's your mail, Harry."

Harry takes it, smiling that he remembered his name. "Thanks for bringing it up here again for me. . . ."

"Louis," he replies instantly, smirking slightly, looking like he has been waiting for Harry to ask.

"Louis," Harry tries out the name, liking how fitting it his for the man; rough sounding with soft edges. "Really, again, thank you. I've really got to try to figure out how to fix that thing. My sister is has always been more handy than me, to be honest."

"Your sister?" Louis asks, curious.

"Yeah, this is her house." Louis nods like it makes much more sense, most likely because Harry looks a bit too young to be owning a house this nice on his own. "I'm house/cat-sitting while her and her husband are on a 'getaway', as she likes to call it."

"Well, you're not doing a very good job now, are you? Letting her mailbox get knocked down, not to mention doing yoga while you should be feeding the cat." Louis tilts his head a bit and  _oh yes, this is definitely flirting._

Harry blushes with this sudden realization, tucks a stray curl from his bun behind his ear. "I'll have you know that I am a wonderful house/cat-sitter. I would have a cat of my own if my building allowed it, but it looks like I'm stuck with Genevieve. For now, at least."

At that moment, Genevieve comes to curl around Harry's ankle, must have heard her name. Harry coos, picking her up to cradle by his chest. He takes note of Louis' eyes on them.

"Isn't she just precious," Louis comments, and Harry lets him pet her. Harry giggles when she mewls extra loud when Louis scratches behind her ears, Louis even chuckling a bit. "You know," Louis starts, peering up at Harry, "I could help you with your whole mailbox situation."

Harry looks up, slightly shocked with the proposition. "Really?"

"Sure," Louis nods with a smile, opting to remove his hand from Genevieve's mane. "Pretty sure the two of us could figure it out."

Harry grins. "If you're sure you're not busy or anything, then I would love the help. Of course, I'll even offer lunch in thanks."

"Yeah, tomorrow I have off. And there's no way I'm passing by an offer of free lunch."

"Okay," Harry laughs. "See you tomorrow then? Around noon?"

"I'll be here! Couldn't miss out on those leggi- I mean, that cooking," then he  _winks_ , a subtle drop of an eyelid, but it's there before he's off and down the front pathway.

 

"Oh, my god.  _Zayn._ "

"Did you crash the mail truck again?" Zayn asks, shuffling through papers on the desk.

Louis' just got back to the office, and he's still in a Harry daze, to say the least.

"One time. That was  _one time,_ Zayn," Louis argues. It's not like he intentionally _almost_ ran over a squirrel. At least he turned fast enough to let the squirrel live.

"Right. Now what are you  _oh, my god. Zayn-_ ing about?"

Louis explains everything from Harry's pretty lips and eyes to his hair and the godforsaken leggings. He also adds in how they met, probably the least romantic way of all.

"And then, I fucking offered to help him fix the mailbox! I don't actually know how to put together a mailbox, Zayn!" Louis panics.

"Mate, chill out. First of all, the lad sounds right fit. And, about the mailbox, it's probably not that hard to figure out."

"That's what I told him. Said that between the two of us, we could probably figure it out."

Zayn grins, mischievous grin on his face. "Did you flirt enough with the guy? Enough to let him know you're interested, that is."

Louis groans, thinking it over. "I don't know, Zayn. He seemed to be into it. Like, what kind of man wears leggings and does yoga when he knows I was obviously coming back at the same time today? But, point is, he was  _so_ strutting when he was walking away. His ass is so cute, it kinda makes me sad."

Zayn snorts. "His ass makes you  _sad?"_

"Shut the fuck up you know what I mean." Louis rolls his eyes, flopping down in a chair. "He even offered to make me lunch. I haven't eaten a real meal since the Cold War. Tomorrow is going to be life changing."

Zayn laughs, reaches over to pat Louis on the back. "I wish you luck, mate. Don't fuck on the first date."

Louis almost moans at the thought.

 

_**Come on in!! :) (Only if you're Louis. If not Louis, please knock).** _

Louis stares blankly at the note attached to the modern home's front door.This guy is so strange, and Louis knows this, but yet, he still can't seem to get him off his mind at all times. Louis might need a counselor.

He enters the home, bracing himself to find Harry in leggings again.

"In here, Lou!" Is what comes from farther within the home. To his luck (or more so dismay) he finds Harry in the kitchen, bent over, looking into the oven. Louis only spares a quick glance at his cute bum, him being a nice gentlemen. (He actually got distracted by the pink apron Harry is wearing, the appropriate  _Kiss the chef!_ printed on the front lapels).

"You've really outdone yourself here, Harold." Louis whistles at the arrangement of sandwiches and fruit, and he can't help but smell something like chocolate wafting through the air. "And is that brownies I smell?"

Harry stands back up, then. Louis notices the faint blush on his cheeks and he's never wanted to kiss someone's cheek so bad. His hair is a mess, as per usual whenever they meet, and his jeans have a rip at the knee. Louis can see him sitting at work or uni (Louis should probably ask if Harry is out of uni yet to ensure that he is not being some type of creep), picking at that hole in his pants. Louis bets that Harry is one of those hipster types that tries his very best to make holes in his jeans, going for the 'grunge' affect.

"Eh, it's not much. Can't have us being famished before we get to the serious work," Harry reminds.

Louis almost frowns at the reminder that they have to actually try and fix the mailbox. It is also kind of concerning that Louis has absolutely no idea how to put a mailbox back together, and he is almost certain that Harry's in the same boat.

"No, we surely can't have that. Really, though, this looks amazing. Haven't even eaten it yet and I can promise you it's the best thing I've had in a long while." Louis smiles at him and Harry's still blushing. It's a thing he does a lot, Louis notices. Now, whether it's due to his compliments or his natural flush is what Louis needs to figure out.

They sit at the countertop, Louis almost moaning at the state of the noodle soup. Harry is fit as hell, cute,  _and_ can cook. Louis is  _hurting._ "Where'd you learn to cook like this, Mr. Ramsey?"

Harry's cheeks pink and Louis bites his lip to hide is smile.  _Adorable._ "It's nothing, really. My gran used to love cooking for us, especially on holidays. I used to sit by the sink in the kitchen and watch her cook, always getting excited when I got the opportunity to whisk or summat."

"How do you whisk? Is that a type of cooking technique only the pros know about?"

Harry lets out a bark of a laugh, letting a little drop of soup drip down his chin. Louis finds it oddly endearing. Making Harry laugh might just be his new favorite thing. "What? No, it's like, oh I don't know, stirring. Like when you're making eggs. You whisk it."

Louis squints at him suspiciously. "I don't believe you, Harry. You're telling me that I'm twenty four years old and have never heard of this monstrosity?"

Harry laughs again, turning to look at him, before raising his brows. "Wait you're serious?" When Louis just blinks back at him, Harry laughs again, but even louder. "I thought - fuck - I thought you were joking."

"Do I look like a man to joke about his cooking, Harold?"

"Uh, yes?"

"Fair enough," Louis shrugs, before clapping his hands together. "Alright, now let's go fix a mailbox."

 

Ever since that day they fixed Gemma's mailbox, they've been inseparable.

They both admitted that they have no idea to fix a mailbox, and decided to worry about it once Gemma got back. She had said no interruptions, after all.

They ended up spending the day watching movies and talking. Harry felt like he made a new best friend with really nice biceps. Louis felt like he made a new best friend with really pretty hair.

 

**1 Year Later; February 2016**

_Come over?? I've got tea and cuddles,_ Harry texts Louis. He's been sitting in his flat all day, Niall staying over at Zayn's more than usual. Ever since Louis and Harry introduced the two, they've been oddly close. Harry and Louis have a suspicion that they're fucking. Niall has always been with women, but Harry  _has_ seen Zayn. No one can blame Niall, really.

_Be there in 10 xx_

 

Louis gets to Harry's, making his way straight to Harry's room. Harry is on his side of the bed (they have their sides by now, them having their frequent sleepovers), laying on his side with his body faced away from Louis.

Louis closes the bedroom door, shucking off his jacket and kicking off his shoes before climbing in behind Harry. He molds himself along Harry's body, tucking his knees behind his and wrapping his arms around him. He sticks his nose behind his ear, breathing in the comfort of his best friend.

Harry turns around then, Louis barely having a chance to catch his eye before he's ducking his head under Louis' chin, sticking his nose into his neck. Louis rubs his back, warm palms soothing.

"Missed you. Needed you to hold me," Harry says, lips brushing against Louis' skin.

Louis' heart shakes a bit at that. He always wants to hold him. Harry needs him just as much as Louis does. "You're my favorite person, of course I'll hold you."

Harry scoffs, scrapes his bare toes against Louis' calf. "I don't want you to hold me because you feel like you have to. I want you to because  _you_ want to."

"Of course I want to, H."

"I love you."

"I love you. Now tell me why you're so cuddly today."

Harry twitches, pressing his hand to Louis' chest. "I'll tell you once you put your hands in my hair."

Louis grins, pushes a hand through Harry's curls and kisses his forehead. Harry moans like he always does when Louis touches him, Louis nicely deciding to ignore it.

"And I just - You've been really busy with the new job and all. I just missed you." Louis frowns at Harry's words. Louis got a better job position at the post office, not having to deliver anymore. He's been working more, not spending as much time with Harry as their both typically used to.

"I'm sorry, love." Louis pulls Harry up from his neck to look him in the eye. "You're my favorite ever and I promise we can go back to being together 24/7. Believe me when I say I miss you just as much as you miss me, if not more." Louis rubs the spot behind his ear that only he knows makes Harry's eyes flutter, and drops a peck to his nose.

Harry smiles a little wider at that. He's pulled down Louis' top a little to trace over the ink there, spindly fingers lapping over the lettering. "Can you believe we've known each other for about a year now?"

"You're telling me it was around this time last year that I pretended to know how to fix a mailbox to keep talking to you? Amazing, that."

"What?" Harry giggles, stopping the movement of his hand on Louis' chest. "Well, I knew you didn't know how to fix it afterwards, but I didn't realize you went into the whole thing clueless."

" _So_ clueless. I just liked you. I thought,  _Wow who is this pretty boy wearing leggings I need to be friends with him,_ " Louis explains, still twirling his fingers through Harry's hair, making it a mess.

"Shut up, no you didn't," Harry shakes his head in disbelief, but there's still a faint blush there as he bites his lips, moving his head back to it's favorite spot; the crook Louis' neck.

"Oh, I sure as hell did. Thought for sure I was gonna marry you, thought you were the prettiest thing I've ever seen." Louis almost chokes himself after he says it. Sometimes when he's with Harry, he forgets to keep a filter, Harry making it so hard for him to do. Harry makes his heart fucking  _ache_ and they have always been just  _more._ So much  _more._

"Wait, what?" Harry sits up a bit on his elbow, smirking down at Louis.

"Oh, fuck. Nothing, I said nothing."

"You thought you were gonna marry me once you saw me in  _leggings?"_ Harry pokes at Louis' cheek, teasing.

Louis covers his face with his hands, shaking his head at himself more than anything. "Shut up. I thought I was gonna marry you for many reasons." And wow, okay, Louis really needs to shut up now. Harry makes his filter go out the window. "But you ended up being my best friend, instead, which is just as good."

Harry rolls on top of him, resting his chin on his palms so he can still watch Louis' face. "Tell me."

"Tell you?"

Harry leans up a bit to kiss the bottom of Louis' chin. "Tell me why you thought you were going to marry me. Aside from the leggings."

Louis stares at him for a second, and from this position, he has to look down, eyes half lidded to Harry's view. He almost decides against it, wants to tell Harry that it's dumb and irrelevant. But, it's just Harry, is the thing. But it's also not  _just Harry_ because Harry is  _just everything._

Louis throws his head back against the pillow and looks towards the ceiling. He can feel Harry's eyes on him. "Well," Louis breathes, figuring he might as well, "obviously the first thing I noticed were the leggings."

"And?" Harry urges.

"And what?" Louis looks at him funny.

"What did you think about the leggings?" Harry rolls his eyes, an unspoken  _duh._

Louis clears his throat. "I thought you looked lovely in them." Louis thinks back to when they first met, how Harry took his breath away. If he didn't realize it then, this past year sure has come to show his love for Harry. "It took me by surprise. Your entire being kind of took me by surprise. I mean, look at me now; rushing over when you so much as send a text. Pathetic."

Harry laughs at that. He moves a finger up to Louis' jaw, tracing the structure, feather-light. "What else?"

Louis can't help but smile so big for this one. "Then you wrote those fucking notes," Louis shakes his head with laughter. "Those notes were so endearing to me, I don't even know why. I think it's because I found them quirky or something. Was cute."

"You do call me quirky all the time," Harry points out. And it's like they're talking about the weather, discussing whether it's going to rain or not.

"'S because you are, babe." Louis places a hand back in Harry's hair from where his head is laying on his chest. "Even your hair is quirky. Prettiest I've ever seen, but you already know that." Harry bites his lip from moaning into the feeling of Louis' fingers rubbing over his scalp and tugging at his strands. "Also know how much you love it when I play with your hair. And that spot behind your ear that only I know about. Makes you motionless in my arms." Louis adds to this by doing just that, tracing his finger down Harry's ear lobe and over behind it.

"Lou," Harry whines a little. His mouth is parted in pure pleasure, looking relaxed. He looks gorgeous.

"There it is. You get all pliant."

"'S only with you."

"Yeah?"

"I found you hot as fuck too, you know," Harry licks his lips.

"What?  _Found?"_ Louis sits up then, knocking Harry over to lay on his back, switching positions.

Harry is laughing now, breathing heavy with it. His hair looks messy and disheveled from Louis' fingers. "Oi, shut it. You don't need me to tell you you're good looking, Lou."

"Excuse me!" Louis gasps, even going as far as digging his fingers into Harry's side for a moment, Harry giving a jerk and a surprised gawk of a laugh. "You made me sit here telling you why I wanted to  _marry_ you. For fuck's sake, Harold." Harry keeps on laughing as it reminds Louis of how happy it made him when they first met, how much he loved, and still loves, making Harry laugh. "There's no secrets between us. Ever. Never anything to be embarrassed about. It's  _us_."

Harry's still trying to catch his breath from the tickling attack. Harry situates them so that his arms are around Louis' neck and Louis' laying in between Harry's spread legs. Harry looks at Louis' shoulder, seemingly too embarrassed to look him in the eye yet. "I had a thing for your arms for quite some time."

"My  _arms?"_ Harry blushes, tries to remove his hands from around Louis' neck to cover his face but Louis stops him midway, entwining their fingers together instead, stretching their arms out above Harry's head. "Hey," Louis kisses his cheek, feeling the heat on his lips. "Why'd you like my arms?"

Louis is loving this whole confession thing a bit too much.

"Um," Harry stutters, still not really looking at Louis.

Louis leans down again, kissing this spot behind his ear while petting his thumb over Harry's knuckle. "Please," he whispers softly into his ear, trying not to grin when he feels Harry shiver and the goosebumps rise.

"I just thought they looked strong. Like your biceps could, uh -" Harry cuts himself off again. Louis presses his lips along Harry's neck, hopefully urging him to go on, waiting. "Like you were strong enough to hold me up against a wall. Or something."

Louis pauses, pulls away to look at him. He looks embarrassed and Louis really wish he didn't because that is probably the hottest thing he's ever heard.

"Yeah?"

"Don't tease me about this, Lou." Harry looks sad.

"Baby, I would never -" Louis shakes his head at himself or Harry, he doesn't know. Louis takes one of Harry's hands and wraps it around his own arm.

Harry looks at him, hesitant, but pretty sure on what Louis is urging him to do. Harry traces his fingers up Louis' forearm. Harry watches his fingers and Louis watches Harry. He gets to the dip of his elbow, pressing his fingertips there shortly. He continues on, tracing the skin of Louis' arm like roads on a map. Once he reaches Louis' bicep, he wraps his hand around it, squeezing. Louis flexes because he's pretty sure that's what Harry wants him to do. Harry is biting his lip afterwards, so it must have been an alright action.

"Think I could hold you up?" Louis has to ask, has to drag this on as long as he can. It may be selfish of him, but he's going to take what he can get from Harry right now.

Harry shakes his head, finally looking at him. "Know you can. You have before."

Louis shakes his head now. His fringe falls and Harry pushes it back for him. "No, I mean, like, enough to hold you up against a wall?"

Louis thinks he hears Harry's breath hitch a little, Louis hopes the visual is in Harry's mind like it is his. "Yeah - I - yeah," Harry agrees, hand still on Louis' arm. Louis smiles wide and Harry's still blushing, but leans up to kiss his cheek anyway. "Even when you make me uncomfortable, you make me comfortable, you dork."

Louis chuckles. "I'm happy to hear that. And I happen to love our little confession sessions. We have to do this more often."

"We're never even so much as  _speaking_ if you ever say confession session again."

"Oh yeah, babe. I love it when you speak dirty to me mmm," Louis moans filthily and dramatic.

He opts to tickle at Harry's sides and dig his face in his neck, just to hear him laugh again.

 

**Honeymoon - Bora Bora; March 2017**

"Oh my  _fuck,_ " Harry throws his head back into the amazingly soft pillows, way softer than their ones at home, he notices. Louis' got his mouth attached to his neck and his hand palming at him through his boxers and Harry thinks he sees stars in the distance.

"Good honeymoon so far?" Louis breaths, peeking up to look at Harry. His hair is disheveled and they're still in their suites for fuck's sake. Quite literally just getting off the plane. Louis accomplished his dream of becoming a member of the Mile High Club, and now here they are, in their hotel room in Bora Bora.

"We just got married, just arrived in Bora Bora, and I've already came three times today," Harry reminds, gasping when Louis finally takes him out of his boxers, licking his palm to get him wet. "Today isn't just  _good_."

Louis laughs. He kisses Harry for the millionth time today. Louis kisses his way down Harry's body next, shucking pieces of clothing as he goes, shedding his own, as well.

"Hurry  _up,_ Lou," Harry whines, becoming impatient.

" _Hold up wait a minute, mister postman,_ " Louis shimmies 'seductively' out of his slacks, the briefs following suit.

Harry barks an yodeling giggle at that. "I can't believe you sang that to me at our  _wedding._ "

" _Wedding,"_ Louis repeats, climbing back onto the bed, taking Harry in his palm again. "We're  _spouses_ now. With a  _mortgage."_

"Shit," Harry moans when Louis rubs over the head. He wraps his arms around Louis' shoulders, playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. "And  _kids._ "

Louis brightens even more, kisses Harry wet and full. "Can't wait to have kids with you, H."

"'S only fun part about being married. The kids and the ring." Harry flips them over, shimmying himself down to play with Louis' cock.

"Hey!" Louis pouts. His breath hitches when Harry starts to take him down right away, cheeks hollowing. "You seem to be having fun with me just fine."

Harry pops off for a moment to wink at Louis. "I have plenty of fun. With your  _dick_."

"Fuck." Louis watches Harry's mouth stretch around him, wet and pink. "I am _so_ okay with you only marrying me for my dick."

Harry grins around his cock if that's even  _possible._

"Alright." Harry hops up from his position at the end of the bed, dick swinging as he climbs into Louis' lap. "Let's go, my night and shining armor. Should still be open from the plane." Louis just watches him in amazement as Harry lubes Louis up. Harry catches him watching and blushes a bit. Louis kisses his cheek. "Okay, all good." Harry discards the lube somewhere off to the side.

Louis helps him up and onto his cock, his hips soft in his calloused hands. Harry's lip is bitten in concentration, situating himself with his hands gripping Louis' shoulders.

"You alright, love?" Louis asks, watching Harry's face for any sign of discomfort.

" _So_ alright. Just - give me a moment. Trying not to come already," he breathes.

"Fuck, you're perfect," Louis practically drools. "Never gonna get over the fact that you're my husband."

Harry smiles all pretty, finally swiveling his hips a bit. "Better get used to it, stud."

"You gonna hurry up and come so we can go check out the pool?" Louis starts moving his hips.

"You know it, pal. Let's do this."

 

(And if they fuck in the pool later that night, no one needs to know).

 

**Author's Note:**

> ig: hlessed  
> twitter: hltwink


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